


Time to Have That Talk

by st_mick



Series: Niffler [60]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Torchwood
Genre: Amortentia potion, ED - Freeform, Jack wants to help, M/M, PTSD, Time for an awkward conversation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:55:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29952375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_mick/pseuds/st_mick
Summary: Ianto is healing from the trip to the Brecon Beacons.  Waking up with Jack stirs pleasant memories and leads to an interesting realization, but there's no time to dwell, because Jack wants to talk about the strange distance Ianto has been keeping, even as they have been sharing a bed.  Can Jack navigate Ianto's fear and panic, to help him through this?
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Series: Niffler [60]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1276304
Comments: 10
Kudos: 18





	Time to Have That Talk

Ianto woke slowly, reluctantly. The first thing he noticed was that he was surrounded by a blissful warmth. He huddled in closer to that warmth and sighed happily. He wrapped himself more closely around the heat source and nuzzled soft skin with his nose, breathing in the gorgeous scent. He felt more than heard a chuckle, and then a hand was running gently through his hair.

_Oh. Oh, yes. More of that, please._

Ianto could have purred, but he refrained from showing that much of himself. Whatever this was, he knew it likely meant far more to him than to Jack. Jack, the intergalactic playboy, whose stories always ended in compromising positions. Not that Ianto wanted Jack to change. He wouldn’t be Jack, if he changed. But Ianto knew whose heart was in jeopardy, at the moment.

Still…

He couldn’t help but think it might be worth it. Hell, their friendship was worth any price, and he would gladly pay it. Of course, it was easy to say such things now, before the heartbreak. He deliberately blanked his mind and breathed in Jack’s scent again, and began to drift in that twilight place between wakefulness and sleep.

He’d just turned sixteen and was entering his sixth year at Hogwarts. It was all about to go to hell, but everyone was operating under the pretense that this was just another school year. Having achieved a score of ‘Exceeds Expectations’ on his Potions O.W.L. and hoping to become an Auror, he had been accepted into Professor Slughorn’s Potions class.

It was the first day of class, and there were three cauldrons brewing when Slughorn invited them into the room. The first was Veritaserum, which looked like boiling water. The Polyjuice Potion resembled gurgling mud, and the Amortentia had a mother-of-pearl sheen to it and smelled quite lovely.

It was a complex set of scents, each succeeding the last. First was the polish he used for his broom, combined with the grass on the Quidditch pitch. Second was the scent of strong coffee, blending smoothly with the leather and paper of old books. And finally was a scent he had never encountered, before.

It was a bit like a heady cologne, but that wasn’t quite right. More like how the scent of Addie’s skin had sometimes resembled a subtle perfume. There was nothing subtle about this scent, but it was gorgeous, and he was glad he was hidden behind a table with a cauldron on it, because it was extremely arousing.

Then again, he was sixteen. Just about everything proved arousing, given the right circumstances.

He had no idea what the scent was, and was even more confused when Professor Slughorn told them the purpose of the Amortentia potion and its effects. The scents conjured were specifically meant to attract the person smelling them. And okay, given his reaction, that wasn’t entirely outside the realm of believability. But shouldn’t he be able to identify it?

Given how that year had unfolded, he hadn’t thought of it again. Not even when he encountered that scent in person, as it were, in a warehouse, eight years later. Now he jolted awake, finally realizing what it was. He found himself on his left side, draped over Jack. His right leg was thrown over Jack’s, and he was pressed closely against the older man’s side, except where his head had clearly been resting on Jack’s chest. He looked up to see Jack smiling at him.

“Morning,” Jack said, his voice amused.

Ianto stared at him for a moment, looking stunned.

“Bad dream?” Jack asked, his smile fading. “Or regrets for finding me in your bed this morning?”

“No,” Ianto quickly recovered. “No regrets. I…” he rubbed his eyes and smiled at Jack. “I slept really well, actually. I just… Strange, half-waking dream,” he muttered lamely.

“Seemed to have started, pleasantly enough,” Jack grinned. “You were making some lovely humming noises, like you were enjoying…”

“You were warm and snug, and you know perfectly well how good you smell. Don’t gloat,” Ianto responded to Jack’s smug smirk with an unrepentant grin of his own. He moved to get up, but Jack gently tightened his hold.

“Where are you going? I was hoping we could talk.”

“Just want to brush my teeth,” Ianto said, and Jack released him.

He gritted past his discomfort and got out of bed. It had been eleven days, and the pain had significantly lessened, but he was tired of it, and knew there were likely weeks of discomfort still ahead of him.

He finished using the toilet and was at the sink when Jack strode into the bathroom, bold as brass, and began peeing. Ianto gave a mental shrug and washed his hands, running them over his face and then through his hair, rather than drying them. Then he began to brush his teeth. He’d lived with other boys and men for a good number of years (and in the Room of Requirement, with girls, as well). If Jack thought he could embarrass Ianto or knock him off-balance this way, he was going to be disappointed.

Ianto moved over to let Jack wash his hands and face, and handed him the spare toothbrush that Jack had been using since he’d begun watching over Ianto. It was strangely intimate, and Ianto couldn’t tell if he was more pleased or terrified.

Ianto padded to the kitchen and while the coffee was brewing, he took his pain pills. He’d been following Owen’s instructions to the letter since the panic attack, and while he still hated the fuzzy-headedness, the pain had been more manageable, and he had not since experienced the overwhelm that had sent him into a suicidal tailspin. He was willing to concede that the tradeoff was reasonable, even if he hated feeling like this.

Ianto carried two mugs of his best effort back to the bedroom, his memory once more stirred by the lovely scent. He smiled at the sight of Jack, shirtless, propped up on the pillows piled against the headboard. He could see that Jack had arranged a sort of cocoon for them, and wondered briefly what he wished to discuss.

“No work today?” he asked, handing Jack one of the mugs of coffee and smirking at the moan of pleasure the older man couldn’t seem to help making at the taste. He set his mug on the night table before carefully easing himself back into the bed.

“The rift has quietened, for the moment,” Jack replied, also setting his mug aside and helping Ianto get comfortable next to him. “It’s Sunday, so I told everyone to stand down. I’ll call them in, if something comes up. And Tosh has forwarded rift alerts to this,” he held up his arm, still wearing the broad leather wrist strap holding the mysterious tech. “Shouldn’t be any, though. Her rift predictor program has gotten pretty accurate.”

Ianto nodded, reaching for his coffee and closing his eyes as he took in the scents of – apparently – two of the five things most attractive to him. It was an interesting piece of information, he had to admit. He was diligently trying to ignore any possible implications as he enjoyed the brew.

“Penny for them?” Jack nudged his arm with a gentle elbow.

“Hmm,” Ianto hummed as he sipped his coffee. It was quite good, if he did say so. “Just wondering what you wanted to talk about, earlier.”

Jack hesitated. It was one thing, to initiate such a conversation whilst holding onto one another, half-asleep. How to approach it now, sitting up, wide awake, with coffee in hand? He drew in a deep breath, and Ianto turned his head, giving him an enquiring look. Nothing for it.

“Well,” Jack hesitated again. “It’s just that we’ve been sharing a bed.”

“I _knew_ something was different,” Ianto deadpanned, trying to make Jack more comfortable. He had a feeling he knew what subject Jack was hoping to broach. And while he dreaded it, he also hoped… 

He _hoped_.

Jack chuckled, realizing Ianto had rumbled him. “Best sleep I’ve had in ages,” he nudged the younger man again. He finished his coffee and set the mug on the table on his side of the bed and inwardly groaned. When had he started calling that _his_ _side_ of the bed?

Ianto nodded thoughtfully, also setting his mug aside. His sleep had been better, as well, though the nightmares had not abated. That was too much to hope for, given the new fodder the mission to the Beacons had provided. But with Jack there to help him weather them, they seemed to be less horrific, somehow.

“Do you think,” Jack said, and hesitated again.

Ianto lay his head on Jack’s shoulder, and it seemed to bolster the older man.

“Will you tell me, Ianto?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper. “What is it that you think is ‘the mother of all deal-breakers’?”

Ianto flinched away from him slightly, despite having guessed that this was the topic Jack wished to discuss. His breathing sped up, and his heart began to race. He had hoped for another night or two in Jack’s gentle, calming embrace before having to give it up and go back to navigating the nightmares on his own in a cold, lonely bed.

“Hey,” Jack put his arm around Ianto, cursing his own inept opening to the conversation. “Hey, come here.” He reached down and turned Ianto, gently hauling him into his lap, setting the younger man between his legs. Jack bent his left leg so that Ianto was braced between Jack’s knee and his chest. Then he draped Ianto’s legs over his right. He gently lay Ianto’s head against his chest.

Ianto wound his arms around Jack, resting against the older man’s chest and letting his heartbeat calm him. “’m sorry,” he muttered.

“Don’t be,” Jack replied, kissing the crown of Ianto’s head. “This will be easier, I think.” When Ianto made a questioning sound, he elaborated. “Sometimes it’s easier to talk about things when you don’t have to face someone.”

“Mmm.”

Jack held Ianto for a few minutes, allowing him to calm. He understood Ianto’s trepidation. He was convinced that Jack would walk away, once he confessed his… current circumstances. And the comfort that had helped his healing would evaporate. No one would want to let that go. Jack was certainly unwilling to abandon the comfort he had found in Ianto’s arms, these last few days. He was actually a bit uneasy, to be honest, at how natural and _right_ it felt. He was trying not to think too much about it, really.

“I…” Ianto began, but trailed off. A deep breath, and he tried again. “That is to say, I…” He huffed in annoyance.

“Take your time,” Jack whispered, holding him close.

“It was the Battle,” Ianto said, his voice quiet. “Canary Wharf,” he specified, wincing as he reminded himself that as far as Jack was concerned, that was the only battle Ianto had been through. But truly, he could be talking about either. 

“What about the battle?” Jack prompted, knowing that if Ianto could focus, he could get this out. But if he thought too much about it, he might get trapped in unpleasant memories.

Ianto sighed. “I’m screwed up, Jack,” he muttered, defeated.

Jack held Ianto a bit tighter. “It’s okay to be,” he said. “But you _are_ healing.”

Ianto snorted. “That’s just it. I’m not.”

“What do you mean?” Jack asked. He held Ianto away from him, slightly, so he could see his face. “Are you hurt?” He didn’t think Ianto carried any injuries from the battle eleven months before, but he needed Ianto to say it wasn’t a physical problem. Ianto needed to talk this through.

“I’m fine,” Ianto sighed. “Physically, I’m fine. Well, except for the obvious,” he shrugged. His body looked like an artist’s palette that had been dropped, the colors muddied shades of sickly yellows, greens, and browns where the bluish black of the worst contusions didn’t dominate. He had taken to avoiding his mirrors, so he didn’t have to look at the ugly panorama his skin had become.

These were the colors of his childhood, and he did not need to waken _those_ memories.

Jack cupped Ianto’s face and kissed his forehead. “Then what is it?”

“I think it broke something inside of me,” Ianto said, still sitting up and away from Jack’s body and staring blankly. “The battle. I mean, I know it broke me. But I’m not mending.”

“How did it break you?” Jack asked, his voice unbearably gentle.

Ianto began to wish he had waited to have this conversation once he was off the pain meds. He couldn’t find the words. Well. He couldn’t find a way to say it that would soften the blow to his own battered pride. He sighed.

“I…,” he stalled again. “That is, I…” he growled in frustration, and Jack finally twigged, at least partially.

“Are the pain meds making this more difficult for you to articulate?”

Ianto nodded, his posture slumping.

“Will you allow me to help you?”

Ianto looked at him, confused.

Jack sighed. “I’m pretty sure I know what the problem is,” he reached out and gave Ianto’s cheek a caress when the younger man flinched, “and whether I’m right or not doesn’t matter, because I think it would help you, to talk this through. But you need to calm down, to be able to do that, because between the pain meds and your panic, you can’t string three words together, right now.”

Jack leaned forward and kissed Ianto tenderly on the forehead. “I promise you, Ianto. There’s nothing that you can tell me that will have me walking away from you, or our friendship.”

Ianto was staring at him, wide-eyed. Disbelieving. But then he seemed to summon his native defiance. Jack almost chuckled at the insolent look on Ianto’s face. He briefly wondered whether Ianto now felt challenged to prove Jack wrong in that assertion, but then he realized with a pang that Ianto didn’t actually believe him. Well, all he could do now was to prove the younger man wrong.

“How about I ask you some questions. That might help you find your words.”

After a moment, Ianto slumped and nodded as he dropped his defiance, which was just a part of his complex and formidable set of defenses. In a flash of insight, Jack realized that the reason Ianto was the strongest man he knew was because he was the most damaged. He had taken the most harm, and had survived it all. But he was _so_ hurt, so vulnerable. Just no one ever saw it. 

Jack felt honored that he was allowed to see this beautiful vulnerability and fragility, and he swore he would handle it with the greatest care.

“You get to flay me alive,” Ianto said quietly, and Jack winced at how true that might feel, to the younger man. “Do I get to ask anything, in return?”

“Of course,” Jack answered gently. “But I think the first ground rule should be that neither of us is obliged to answer any question, for any reason. We have to trust one another, with this.”

Ianto nodded. “Ask away,” he muttered with a sarcastic wave of his hand.

“Were you injured in the battle?”

Ianto shrugged. “Nothing major. Cuts and bruises, mostly.”

This corresponded with the file that UNIT had compiled on the survivors, though Jack somehow felt that it was not complete information. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on what this might mean.

“If you ever need to talk through what happened that day, you can come to me. You know that, don’t you?”

Ianto sniffed and nodded. “Thank you.”

“So any injuries you suffered that day have healed?” Jack went on.

“Yes.”

“But you’re still feeling… broken.”

Ianto nodded.

“You told me that you’re no good to anyone, anymore. That you’re ruined beyond repair.”

Ianto nodded again, looking miserable.

Jack was certain that Ianto didn’t remember blurting out, just before Gwen interrupted their argument with news of a carcass in the woods, that Jack wanted a lover who could actually _perform_.

“Ianto, when was the last time you had sex?”

Ianto jerked to the far end of the bed, looking at him with wide eyes.

He definitely didn’t remember, then. Jack realized that it wasn’t long after that conversation that Ianto had taken the first of several blows to the head. It wasn’t surprising that he didn’t remember. He reached out his hand in a placating gesture.

“It’s all right. I told you, I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you…” Ianto snapped his mouth shut, and Jack was left to wonder what he was about to say. Did Ianto really think he was that shallow?

He realized that his stories were usually a bit… blue. Hell, they were often downright raunchy, but he had hoped that Ianto saw past the wild stories. Actually, Jack was certain that he did. So… He closed his eyes and let out a groan. This wasn’t about Jack, or their friendship, or how Ianto normally saw him. This was about how Ianto saw himself, and how his current… situation had played on every insecurity. He took a deep breath and continued.

“Can you tell me?”

“That morning of the battle,” Ianto said, looking at the expanse of duvet that spread between them as though it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. “Lisa wanted to call in sick. Stay in bed all day. Made a compelling argument,” he snorted, and what had begun as a good memory immediately soured and turned painful.

“Ianto, that wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have listened to her.”

“It would only have been a matter of geography,” Jack argued. “You told me your roommate was killed. They would have gotten to you there, too.”

“But I could have protected her, there!” Ianto all but shouted, then curled back into himself. “You don’t understand,” he breathed, and Jack realized that Ianto had not entirely rid himself of his despair.

“You’re right,” Jack admitted, and Ianto looked up at him, surprised. “And someday maybe you can help me understand, so I can help you forgive yourself. Because in the end, it’s not your fault that the Cybermen and Daleks invaded. It’s not your fault that Yvonne made it all too easy for them to invade. It’s not your fault that you were caught in the middle of a battle that humans would be hard-pressed to survive, much less win.”

Ianto let out a sob, and Jack managed to pull him back into his arms. He held him for a few minutes, trying to soothe him without telling him it was all right. None of it would ever be all right. But someday, it would be easier to live with. Being one of the few survivors would probably always hurt, but there could someday be peace in accepting it. Perhaps by finding meaning in it. 

But that would be for another day. Today was for a different discussion. One that would hopefully remove this wedge that Ianto had inadvertently driven between them, assuming he knew how Jack would feel about his current circumstances.

Jack kissed him on the temple and settled him against his chest. “This all right?” he asked. When Ianto nodded, he forged ahead. “I’m not trying to embarrass you, but this is affecting our friendship, and I want to understand. So please know, I’d never want to hurt you. You know that, right?” He received another nod. “So I’m going to just be blunt and ask you, but you don’t have to answer. When was the last time you got hard?”

Ianto sobbed again and burrowed closer to Jack, hiding his face.

“Shh,” Jack soothed. “Shh. You’re all right. It’s going to be okay. But I think it would help if you could answer me.”

“That same morning,” Ianto whispered, his miserable tone only slightly muffled by Jack’s chest.

Jack closed his eyes. No wonder Ianto was afraid. Tomorrow would mark eleven months since Canary Wharf fell. It was a long time to go without any reactivity in that area.

***

**Author's Note:**

> Wooh! Poor Ianto. I hadn't realized this would take such a prominent role in the story, which may be why the story stalled, for so long. I want to be sure to treat this topic with sensitivity and respect.
> 
> On the plus side, the guys are talking. Mostly to each other, but every now and then they let me listen in. I'll try to get the next part posted, soon.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


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